


So Help Me God

by TheSilentUnderworld



Series: How Boredom Lead to Sex [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bored Sherlock, M/M, Sex, john figures out the patern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2146197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilentUnderworld/pseuds/TheSilentUnderworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finally notices the pattern, and boredom finally leads to sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Help Me God

“John-” Sherlock mumbled in a way that tipped John off to what would follow.

"You’re bored. No cases. None you’ll take, that is. Plenty of cases, I’m sure. Not enough nicotine or puzzle simulators, either." John cut him off quickly, so quickly in fact, that Sherlock looked surprised. If John didn’t know better, he would even dare to say Sherlock looked… impressed.

"Well…" Sherlock blinked, shutting his slightly agape mouth. "Yes." Was the only way he could respond to being the one anticipated, rather than the other way around.

"Planned for this." John retorted quickly.

"Planned for this?" Sherlock’s brow furrowed, since when did John have any sort of plans for dealing with him?

"Yep." He stood up, and started off towards his room. "Come."

If he and John weren’t already in a relationship, if he didn’t trust John in a way he knew made him vulnerable,  he wouldn’t have followed silently. But he did.

"Prepared how?" Sherlock enquired once John closed the door behind them.

"Lubricant, and an assortment of other related things." John responded without falter because, hey, they were together now. He was good with sex, considering how often it found him. Why be shy with his gangly nerd anymore?

Sherlock knew he was blushing profusely, he knew his blinking to comprehend John’s words made him look like a deer in headlights, he knew all this and yet- was absolutely powerless to stop it. “N-never said I was _that_  bored…”

"But you are."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you Sherlock. You always start the same way, you say my name to get my attention then complain for an eternity, then you make it obvious how you want your boredom solved. I just skipped the hundred years of complaints." John had picked up on the pattern by its second occurrence.

Well then.

Sherlock had not expected that. Not that quick and from a, as Mycroft would put it, ‘Goldfish’.

"Um." Sherlock stammered, still accepting the fact John actually knew him that well.

"I won’t make you do anything, you know that, but you also know where that was going either way."

John was right and Sherlock accepted that, however rare it may be, and shrugged his robe off. “Yes, I do.” He let the cloth fall to the floor. “Let’s have sex.”

John was caught off guard by how… blatant Sherlock had just made his intent. They had done what? A hand job and a blow job.  _Once._  And Sherlock had seemed shy about the hand job.

Now he just… wanted sex? Like it were just something you sit there and agree on and not more than often completely spur of the moment?

"Uh. Your sure?" John asked, slightly confused- no, actually, apprehensive.

"Of course. I’ve had weeks to entertain the idea, and it seems…"

"Interesting?"

"No."

"Fun?"

"Nice. It seems… nice."

John thought on that a moment, Sherlock Holmes never did anything because it was ‘nice’. He always had an end game or a motive or a court warrant.

"Nice?"

"Yes, nice; pleasant; agreeable; satisfactory."

"Don’t define it, for god’s sake. You just don’t do anything unless  you have a want or a reason or a need."

"Oh." Sherlock thought on that for a moment, a very short moment. "I think that sex is very important in some relationships, and can…" Now he thought a longer moment. "…create a special type of bond."

"Can it?" John said, crossing his arms and leaning against his dresser.

"Yes John, you know that, you have sex all the time." Sherlock responded almost condescendingly.

"That doesn’t mean I have a connection with all those people, Sherlock."

"What?"

John took a breath, explaining emotions to Sherlock was so absolutely tedious. It was like he were an android who only knew what Wikipedia told him about emotions. “You can have lust without love, and love without lust. I’ve lusted towards a great deal of people, but I’ve only really loved one.” He grinned, but Sherlock didn’t seem to get it, cocking his head ever so subtly.

"Who?"

_Oh my god._

John approached him, nay strode over to him in one fluid motion just to press flush up against him. “You, you moron.” And with that John shut any further questions Sherlock surely had up with a kiss.

"Oh." Was all Sherlock could get out, breathless after that kiss turned to a make out session up against the back of John’s door.

 ”You’re so oblivious.” John mumbled into the crook of Sherlock’s neck, sliding his hands up Sherlock’s shirt. The feeling was so electric Sherlock didn’t even have time to ask what he had said before a moan escaped his mouth.

It was still odd to John, just how malleable Sherlock let himself be when things got heated. Even if it was more because he had no idea how to react than simply giving John the reigns, it was a… welcomed oddity. Which were rare when it came to Sherlock Holmes. Oddities in his book were pickled fingers and severed heads and melted plastic all over the kitchen,  _again._  But when it came to sex? John had complete and utter control.

By the time John had stripped Sherlock of his clothing the detective had almost come apart at the seams. Sherlock did not feel lust, not until John, and he had experienced love twice. One love being for his brother, which he would never, ever admit to anyone. Not ever. And the other for a woman he would never see again. But then there was John. Both of those intrepid things that just walked into his office one day asking about his flat.

"Bed." John demanded, but not sternly. Gently. Stern had no place if this really was going to be their first time.

"Mhm." Sherlock obliged, not caring that his entire face was red or that his cock painfully hard.

Without another word John got his clothing off too and retrieved a bottle of lube from his bedside table before looking to Sherlock again. “I’m fairly sure your clean, Mr. Virgin?”

"Don’t ask silly questions John."

"That’s what I thought." Which was good, because condom’s were a real buzz kill and it had been too long since John had the pleasure of going without. Not to say you shouldn’t use condoms. Stay safe kids.

Before Sherlock could retort John was nearly on top of him, pouring the lube in one hand and putting the bottle to the side. “Now, your actually going to need to  _relax_  for once, ok?”

"Yes John, that would seem intelligent considering this could be  _extremely painful_  if it played out wrong.”

John rolled his eyes and rubbed the lube between his hands to warm it. “Don’t be dramatic.”

"Simply stating a fact, I’ve had time to research, now hurry on with it."

John rolled his eyes once more before sliding his hand between Sherlock’s thighs, rubbing him teasingly just outside where he really wanted to be touched.

"Oh, for god’s sake, don’t keep me waiting." Sherlock mumbled. "I hate waiting, you know that."

"The buildup makes it better, hush." John retorted, sliding a finger down to tease Sherlock’s entrance and another up to run along his cock.

"Hnn-" Sherlock let out a muffled moan, ok- ok, maybe John was right more often than he had originally calculated.

Before Sherlock had time to- well, anything. It seemed Sherlock’s windows of opportunity to be a snarky twat were getting smaller and smaller the longer John was in command. But before Sherlock could do anything his body lit up at the feeling of a finger inside of him that only got more intense when a second was added, then a third, and at this point Sherlock wanted to scream because he was so full but he wanted  _more._

He wanted it more than he had wanted anything in his life, and granted he thought that a lot, he  _really_ meant it this time!

Which John could see, see it in the breathless moans and leverageless bucking and little beads of sweat sliding down Sherlock’s neck. Not to mention how he wanted to fuck the ever living brains out of him at this point.

So he withdrew his fingers and lined himself up, much to Sherlock’s dismay before he realized how big what was coming next was. John got lots of sex for lots of reasons and that one sure as hell helped.

"Oh my _god_  John.” Sherlock covered his eyes with his forearm, chest heaving from the foreplay alone. “You’re going to  _kill_  me.”

Sherlock made everything dramatic, and John didn’t know why he had expected different in the bedroom or after he was told not to be. So he ignored the comment and moved on to more pressing issues. “Ready?”

"There aren’t enough words in any of the languages I know combined to express how ready I am."

So with that astounding ‘yes’ John pressed in, finding less resistance than he had expected. Not to say Sherlock wasn’t tight,  _bloody hell_  was he tight, but Sherlock always did learn quick.

"More-" Sherlock forced himself to say, because words failed him at the moment. "Please, John, more."

And John could not say no to Sherlock, not now with him writhing below him and begging to be fucked, not ever. So he slid all the way in before retracting, and slamming home again.

And again.

And so many times in that same, sweet place that Sherlock was seeing stars.  

He didn’t know how John knew exactly where his prostate was, probably something to do with his medical training, but he didn’t have time to do something as  _stupid_  as think about it. He had to relish in the absolute ecstasy it brought him, because at this point there was little more to do, and like any high it would leave to quick and with him wanting more.

Before he knew it he was on the edge, mumbling and moaning and absolutely out of it. “Going to- John, I’m so close-“

Rather than slowing down, making Sherlock beg for it, he went faster. Harder. Took Sherlock’s cock in hand and pumped it to the quick pace of his thrust because there would be other times to try other things but right now was not one of those times.

That did make Sherlock scream. John’s name, to be specific, as he came harder than he knew humanly possible between them, almost losing vision at the intensity of it all. And that was to amazing for John not to cum soon after, deep and with a hard rut, ending in him pulling Sherlock into a tired embrace and kissing him once more.

"So." Sherlock said whirly as he regained his breath and conscious thought. "You can have love with ought lust, and lust with ought love." He paused a moment. "But we have both."


End file.
